See the Sun
by 19thpersonality
Summary: A simple Riley sick-fic gone angsty. Riley house-sits for Ben and Abigail while he's got the flu, and... read the story. Rating for language, six-part. Warning - some sensitive subjects.
1. Part 1

**Whoop - new story! This is a little more Riley-ish than _After the Charlotte, _and like it, it's already written and ready for posting.**

**Just a bit of a warning - some extemist views in this story. It's not excessive, but adds to the plot... really, if you're sensitive about religion and what's proper and not, please don't read this. Just thought I'd say it now, rather than halfway throught the story you find out 'ugh, what the hell' and it just ruins everything you've read so far. I hate it when that happens...  
**

"Please try not to trash the place," Ben said.

Riley sniffed, leaned against the doorway, gave Ben a long, sarcastic look.

"When have I ever trashed the place while you weren't here?"

Ben considered this.

"You broke the microwave once."

"You were here that day, so it doesn't count." Riley scowled. "And besides, when will you ever get over that? I've apologized a million times, and bought you a new one."

"I liked the old one better," Abigail said, passing Riley in the doorway and carrying two suitcases.

Riley sighed, swallowed a cough.

"Thanks for inviting me to your big opening in Tokyo," he deadpanned.

Ben took the bags from Abigail and loaded them into the back of his car, glanced over at Riley.

"We've been over this. You've got the flu, and your doctor said you're not supposed to travel."

"And to make it up to you," Abigail added. "We're letting you stay at our place until we get back."

Riley scoffed.

"Your place sucks," he said quietly.

"What was that?" Abigail called, her tone menacing.

"Nothing," Riley answered cheerily.

"I thought so," Abigail said. "There's soup in the freezer and don't eat too much junk."

"Yes Mom," Riley teased. Ben opened the car door for Abigail and she slid in, opening her window to give Riley a warning look.

"Be good," Ben called to Riley and got into the car.

"Bye," Riley called and shut the door.

"You think he's going to be okay?" Abigail asked, amusement and concern mixing.

"He's got unlimited resources and enough money to last him the rest of his lifetime," Ben grinned. "He'll be fine."

-

Riley felt crap. He watched Ben and Abigail drive away from an upstairs window, then went to make himself comfortable in their TV room. He didn't mind staying at their place. It was nice. It was like visiting relatives who didn't want to kiss you and take photos all the time.

But not alone. He hated being lonely.

He'd had enough loneliness when he was a teenager. His parents always away, his brother wanting nothing to do with him… he'd spent his days reading manuals and teaching himself the computer inside and out. And when he'd mastered that, he started on other electronics. Anything that was charged or needed batteries. He figured it out. Sure, he'd gotten into trouble a few times for permanently damaging his father's TV and completely destroying his brother's stereo, but he'd survived the aftermath.

But he didn't like it. Up to the age of eleven he was able to entice other kids to be his friends with his vivid imagination and intriguing games, but after that… all he had was his mind. He hated high school. He was one of those kids who stayed under the radar, not popular enough to be part if the in-crowd, not geeky enough to be picked on. His grades were average. He'd learned from a young age not to draw attention to himself. But he could have been better… if he tried.

The day he graduated was the best day of his life. He wasted no time moving out and spent three long years working in a complaints office for, working his way up from copy-boy to assistant technical advisor. And then, his life turned into a plateau. Without qualifications, he was stuck. His boss, the technical advisor, was a year older than him, college educated. Even though Riley had more experience, knew more than the guy, he'd never get promoted.

Then he met Ben. It had been an accident. A chance meeting. Riley often wondered whether he'd still be in that dead-end job if he'd called in sick that day like he'd been planning to.

Greg, the TA, would have been pissed. And Riley couldn't afford for anyone else to hate him. He already had a list as long as his arm of the people he knew disliked him in the office, including the office manager. So he didn't take the day off. He dragged his hungover body to the office, took one look at the list of things to fix and decided he should have stayed at home.

No one except Cindy the busty telephone girl had seen him, so he thought if he could sneak out and home, he'd call in later and say he had the flu. If he'd known Cindy-big-boobs was a tattletale, he wouldn't even had tried.

But he didn't know, so he tried. He snuck around the back corridor where he knew no one would see him and tried the emergency stairwell. He'd gone barely three steps when he heard footsteps and the voices of two accountants from upstairs coming up. He panicked, slid back into the corridor, only to be accosted by Greg.

"There you are," he said. "Cindy said you were back here. You should be fixing Mr. Booth's computer. Why are you coming up the emergency stairs? Is the elevator broken?"

"No," Riley said, trying to still his racing heart. "I just needed some… exercise."

"Don't go stinking up the place," Greg teased, gave Riley a playful punch and turned to go. "Mr. Booth is getting pretty mad. You'd better go check it out."

Riley made a face at Greg's retreating back, sulkily followed him back into the telephone office. The other four telephone girls had shown up and all gave Greg the come-hither eye. As usual, Riley was invisible.

He'd fixed Mr. Booth's computer (just some loose screws) and was about to go throw up. He stumbled into the hallway, into a tall, dark-haired man. The man had a cell phone stuck to his ear and it crashed to the floor.

"Oh, my God," Riley'd said, dropped to his knees to pick it up. He could feel there was something broken inside. "I'm so sorry. I should've looked- I can fix it. And I'll pay for the damages." Riley started to dig out a pen but he paused, swallowed back a wave of nausea.

"Hey," the man said. "You don't look so good."

"I'm okay," Riley said, found a pen. "It's just a…" he dropped his voice an octave, "a really bad hangover. Please don't tell my boss."

"Okay," the man said, amusement in his eyes.

"Oh my God." Riley winced at the voice at the end of the hallway. Greg came trotting up in that pompous way of his. "Please God, Riley, tell me you didn't break that."

"I…" Riley paused, looked down at the cell phone in his hand. "Uh…"

"It's my fault," the man said. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Oh, no, sir," Greg said. "You don't have to protect little Riley here from anything. He's the assistant technical advisor. He gets blamed for everything that goes wrong around here."

Riley blushed a deep red, kept staring at the phone in his hand.

"I'm really sorry, sir-"

"No," the man said. "I'm sorry. It was my fault."

"I can fix it," Riley started again. "If you'd-"

"Don't worry about it," the man said, started down the passage. Greg didn't even wait for him to get out of earshot before he started ripping in to Riley.

"You _broke his phone?_ How could you have been _so stupid?_"

"It was an accident-"

"I don't want to hear excuses," Greg continued, his back to the man who'd paused to listen. Riley saw him turn back, and averted his eyes. "You're always screwing up. Can't you ever just do as you're told? Can't you think for yourself? That man is a friend of the most influential investor in this company. Do you have any idea what he could do to this office? To this _department_?"

"Hey," the tall stranger said, butting in. "He said it was an accident. He's right. Just let it go."

"Thank you, sir," Greg said, smiling blandly. "I will."

Riley kept his eyes on the floor as the stranger gave Greg a suspicious look. Greg watched him walk down the passage and disappear around the corner.

"I'm writing you up," Greg said, pulled a notebook out of his pocket. "That's the second warning this month. One more and you're going on probation."

"Greg," Riley said, his eyes fearful. "Come on, it really was an accident."

"Well, Riley, you have way too many accidents."

Riley stared in desolation as Greg plucked the pen from his hand and started writing. Something behind Greg blurred, and Riley should have warned him, but he was too fascinated to say anything.

Ben Gate's fist collided with Greg's jaw so hard that Greg went flying into the wall. Riley should have called security or something, but he was too shocked. He just stared at the random stranger who'd just knocked his superior out right in front of him.

"Sorry about that," Ben said. "I'm having a bad day. My computer expert just quit on me, Ian Howe is cutting down on his checks and this guy…" he stared down at Greg with distaste, who was just coming around. "He just annoyed me. I don't like being lied to. I'm feeling better. How about you?"

Riley surrendered his hands. There was a crazy maniac attacking random strangers talking to him.

"I'm probably getting fired and I'll never find a job again, but I think my hangover's gone."

Ben chuckled, dug in his pocket.

"If you have trouble finding a job, you can call this guy. Tell him Ben Gates said to give you a job."

Riley stared at the card. Ian Howe. Oh my God. That's the big investor guy.

"Hold on," Riley said as Ben turned to go. "Your computer expert quit?"

"Yes," Ben said. "Why? You know someone?"

"Yeah," Riley scoffed. "Me."

And so he became part of the team.

-

A shrill, insistent noise broke through Riley's sleep. He woke up slowly, wondering if he was dreaming.

Another noise, the roar of an expensive engine, made Riley sit bolt upright.

"My car," he mumbled, still groggy. "They're stealing my car."

He fumbled for his jacket, stumbled towards the front door. The lights in the entrance hall were still on. Ballsy thiefs, Riley thought as he tripped up the steps.

"Hey," he shouted as he flung open the door. And felt stupid.

His red Ferrari stood glinting in the moonlight. The alarm was still whickering, but other than that, nothing seemed out of sorts.

Riley frowned, jerked his head as if to see if there was a lose bolt somewhere. He must have imagined the engine.

From the doorway, he pressed the disarm button in his keys, hoping to still the alarm. But his batteries must have been flat or something, because nothing happened.

Riley sighed, stepped to the car, tried again. Still nothing. He groaned, stepped closer.

"Come on," he encouraged softly.

From the shadows, a dark figure emerged behind Riley. Riley didn't notice as he desperately tried to soothe his car.

Something whistled past Riley's head as he leaned forward. He turned his head to the side, frowning. And put himself in lethal danger.

Riley Poole slumped to the ground.

"Shit," a low voice said. A large man crouched next to the still figure on the ground. Carefully, he rolled the younger man over onto his back, felt with callused fingers around the side of the head. He encountered something warm and sticky, swore again and patted his pockets, pulled out a cell phone.

"Yes."

"Jim, we've got a problem."

"What is it?"

"He turned, I hit the side of his head. Not the back. He's bleeding."

"Goddamnit is he alive?

The man felt for a pulse. It was weak.

"Yeah."

"You idiot. Is he breathing? His vitals, Danny. Check his vitals.

"He's alive, Jim."

"You idiot. If that boy dies, I'll hold you responsible." The voice on the other side sighed. "He could still go into respiratory arrest. You check him every two minutes. And keep the pressure on."

The man pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. It was embroidered with an elaborate A. He pressed it onto the wound, held it there.

"I can't leave here," the voice on the other end of the line continued. "You're going to have to deal with it yourself. Don't let him lose too much blood. We can't afford a hospitalization. Does he need stitches?"

"I can't tell, too dark. Maybe."

"Keep the pressure on. Take the car, leave the van. Is there blood on the ground?"

"Yes. He's bleeding a lot."

"Damn it, Danny. We'll send in a cleanup crew tomorrow. Get him here as fast as you can so we can check out the wound."

The large man agreed, hung up. He easily lifted the limp body into the Ferrari's passenger seat, slid behind the wheel. This wasn't part of the plan. He didn't even know if he knew how to drive one of these.

But was definitely faster than the van.

-

Ben Gates didn't want to listen to the words the priest said. He didn't want to think about what was going on, where he was.

Behind him, a woman sobbed. He'd been surprised that so many people had showed up. It wasn't meant to be a big thing. They'd only organized with the funeral home to set out twenty chairs, but when they arrived, they were setting out five times as much. Riley would have been impressed.

Ben lifted dry eyes to the front. He caught Riley's eyes. Cheeky bastard. The photograph Emily and Abigail had picked out stood proudly at the front of the church. He hadn't had close family. His parents had excommunicated him a long time ago. He had a brother who lived somewhere in Asia. Except for Ben and his family, Riley had been alone in the world. It was just natural that they'd be the ones to organize the memorial service.

Ben hadn't wanted to give up the search. Sadusky had promised to never stop trying, but had advised Ben not to put his faith on it. But it had been two months since Riley had vanished. The FBI had found his apartment cleaned out, as if he'd never lived there. His car was gone, still not found, his bank accounts empty. Even Abigail, who'd stood by through everything, believed Riley had made the decision to disappear.

But Ben couldn't give up hope. He knew Riley would never have done anything like this voluntarily. Something had happened. And he intended to find out.

**Okay. I'm saying this once. I don't own National Treasure or any ideas or characters originating from it. Disney does. I only own the Treasure Hunter's Special Edition double box set and a few OC's. **

**About this fic: since you've come so far and read the first chapter, I'll humor you and say that none of the scary dark stuff was intentional. I have a very violent and angsty imagination, probably due to the fact that I've been isolated from normal society for seven months. It tricks me, my imagination does, into thinking, why don't I write a nice, cute little Riley sick-fic. And then in an instant, it whirls on me and suddenly the whole page is filled with horror and apprehension. I can't help it. I'm sorry.**

**No, I'm not. Who cares? Who doesn't like a good angsty Riley fic? Don't deny it, we're all alike – we thrive on the desolation of our favorite characters. Why? I don't know. Don't ask me to go all psychological on this. Because I'll start saying things without thinking about it first, then go back and think why the hell did I say that?**

**Anyway. More darkness coming soon. **


	2. Part 2

**Thanks for the reviews, guys! Also, thanks for the beta - Booklover Fanatic and LoremIpsum!**

Abigail frowned into the dark, not opening her eyes. Who'd ring them in the middle of the night?

She sat up instantly. Ben had already answered.

"Hello?" No trace of sleep in his voice. Since Riley had vanished almost half a year ago, Ben had adopted a strange way of sleeping.

"No, it's no problem. Is it Riley? Have you found him?"

Abigail watched Ben's face. It was Sadusky. She knew it by instinct. Ben's face was apprehensive. Then a quick flash of surprise. And then… desolation. And she knew.

Ben didn't have to say anything. Without a word, he replaced the telephone on the bedside table. He shook his head disbelievingly. For a long while, they just sat there in shock. Then the tears came freely, and they both cried. Abigail cradled Ben in her arms as he sobbed his heart out for his dead friend. Tears coursed across her face. But somehow, it was a relief. To know.

She waited for Ben to pull away before she asked.

"Where?"

"Up north. Too decomposed for positive ID, but they're pretty sure. He had his driver's license on him, that's how they identified him."

"What did Sadusky say? How?"

"Blunt trauma to the skull." Ben pressed his fingers to his eyes.

"A professional hit?"

"Looks like it."

There was nothing else to say. Now they knew. And any tiny ray of hope they had was gone.

They buried him where they'd placed the memorial stone four months earlier. It was worse, somehow, to mourn a friend twice. This time, though, Ben didn't hold back. He even had a speech prepared. Even more people had showed up this time. They cried openly. If Riley had known that such a commotion was made over him, he'd have been ecstatic. He was a celebrity. He was plastered all over the news. His dream of being famous had come true. Only… it was ironic that it had to be in death.

Things had changed. The big museums in London, Paris, Cairo had all held special memorial services of their own. Riley had become more famous than Ben. People all over the world recognized his face, his name. His book's sales had rocketed.

But still, Ben couldn't help but feel that it wasn't right. That it was false.

And he was right. Somewhere in the world, Riley Poole was watching his immortalization grow. But he wasn't happy. He was anything but.

-

Sadusky didn't call them in the middle of the night this time. He waited until morning, called them into his office. He offered them coffee and condolences, and said that he had something to show them. He warned them that if they'd made their peace with Riley's death, they should tell him now.

But he'd piqued their curiosity. Even if they had made their peace with something that happened almost a year ago now, they wouldn't have told him.

He watched them carefully, then sighed and reached for a disk on the table in front of him.

"I did warn you," he said again, placed the disk into a player. The machine whirred as it read the DVD, and the screen showed a kitchen. A dark-haired woman stood by the door, faced away from the camera. There was no audio.

"What is this?" Abigail asked suspiciously.

"Just watch," Sadusky said, gestured to the screen.

The woman turned around, walked into the kitchen. She sat down at a table, wrote something on a bit of paper, then stood up and left. For a few moments, nothing on the screen moved. Then a diminutive figure came through the door.

Abigail gasped. Ben's face didn't change.

The figure walked straight to the table, read the note. The person shook his head, looked around the kitchen. It was a mess. He seemed to just stare at his surroundings for a while, then went to the fridge, took out a can of something. He turned to the camera, and for the first time, the viewers had a glimpse of his face.

Sadusky paused, enhanced the video. Riley Poole's face filled the screen.

There was a long silence, then Ben spoke.

"Was this taken before he was killed?"

Sadusky stared.

"No," he said, wondered how to break this gently. "This footage was recorded recently by a special agent who'd been infiltrating this society for almost three years now."

Abigail stared.

"What?"

Sadusky leaned forwards, folded his hands on his desk.

"Dr. Chase." He paused again. "Riley Poole is alive."

-

For a long while, all they did was stare across the desk at Agent Sadusky. Then Ben cleared his throat.

"How can this be possible?"

"The body we identified as Poole's had no positive identification. You weren't told at the time, but since we're certain that it definitely doesn't belong to Poole, you're being told now. The body was extensively mutilated, most of the bones broken and all the teeth pulled out. But since we had nothing else to go on and identification was found on the body, we assumed it was Poole."

Ben sat back, let out a low whoosh of breath. Abigail reached for his hand.

"We can only guess what happened. Either Mr. Poole faked his own death and is now living a new life, or someone else did and is holding him against his will." Sadusky paused, watched the faces across the desk. "We can think of no other reason for him being alive."

"Riley would never do this to us," Abigail said. "He wouldn't."

"Which leaves us with a hostage situation," Sadusky said.

"We need to get him back," Ben said, looked at the screen. "Where is he?"

"If we move now, we'll put our investigation in jeopardy," Sadusky said. "Our agents have been infiltrating this society for a long time. We only came upon this by accident, someone recognized his face from the news."

"If you've known about this for such a long time," Abigail said. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?"

Sadusky sat back, considered the couple.

"Let me explain something to you," he said. "'This society' is a euphemism. What we're referring to is more of a cult, a religious sect to people looking in from the outside. They call themselves the Analysts. Recruits, or new members, would believe that the Bible contains a code, a secret mission for man to discover. As they graduate from level to level, responsibilities become greater and initiation becomes more intense. Typical cult."

"You think Riley got caught up in that," Ben said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, with his, and your, history of codes and secrets, it's an explanation."

"No," Ben said, shook his head. "No. Riley doesn't believe in God. He wouldn't believe that."

"As I was saying," Sadusky continued. "A few years ago, a subway in Paris was the focus of a terrorist attack, and authorities in France traced it back to the Analysts. They denied any association, but we kept tabs on them. Then another attack was made in Belgium, and many of the senior members of the Analysts had no solid alibis. So we have reason to believe that the cult front is the façade of a terrorist organization, and just a method of recruiting new members. And we had a few FBI agents infiltrate the cult. Two weeks ago, one of them ascended to the second highest level in the society and gained access to several 'communities', like safe houses for members of the society who couldn't afford accommodation."

"In her report of last week, she said there were many more secrets to uncover and that one specific community was especially mysterious. While the others were like people sharing a house, this one had a number of locked doors and areas where she wasn't allowed. She considered it strange, but when she casually remarked this to other members, she was told it was only a recent addition and some people who needed special treatment, like children, were housed in the community. Suspicious, she planted a small camera in the kitchen.

"Her latest report came through yesterday afternoon. She'd written that she had recognized a Mr. Riley Poole, who was reportedly deceased, and had sent this clip along for verification. Also noted were a teenage girl and a toddler. Certainly interesting. She would make an effort to gain more access to this community and find out more."

Sadusky leaned forward, pressed the tips of his finger together. Ben and Abigail were silent.

"That's all you know." Again, a statement from Ben. No questions.

"Yes." Sadusky considered them again. "Now, if it's not too painful, we need your help."

-

Twenty minutes later, and they hadn't proceeded. Instead, they seemed to have backtracked.

Sadusky sighed.

"You're absolutely sure Mr. Poole wouldn't agree to donate his fortune to this organization and go into hiding."

"Yes," Ben and Abigail said simultaneously, glanced at each other in amusement.

"Riley was…" Abigail paused, recomposed herself. "Riley _is_ too selfish to do that. He's a born sponger."

"A sponger?" Sadusky raised an eyebrow.

"A leech. If there was a way for him to not spend money, he'd find it," Ben explained. "If we were getting pizza, he was there. If someone was having a birthday, he'd go halves on a present and 'forget' to pay the difference."

"And I can't see Riley going into hiding voluntarily." Abigail twisted her hands in her lap, shook her head. "He wrote that book of his for publicity. He _wanted_ to be known, to be recognized."

"He certainly got his wish," Sadusky pointed out. Abigail closed her eyes.

"You don't know Riley. He wouldn't have wanted this. He wanted people to see _him_, not what happened to him."

Sadusky understood. He didn't know Riley Poole as well as he could have, but he understood Abigail's words. It made sense. Someone in Ben Gates' shadow writing a book for publicity wasn't about to fake his death if that's what it takes for people to recognize him.

"Let's look at the other angle," he suggested. "Other than his professional technical expertise, any particular reason an organization like this would benefit from having Riley?"

Ben and Abigail exchanged a glance, shook their heads.

"I don't know they put up with him when we barely did," Abigail said softly.

"Why is that?" Sadusky pounced.

"He complains like there's no tomorrow and only stops talking if you put a gun to his head," Ben smiled, forgetting himself for a moment. Sadusky watched his face in sympathy.

"We know he's alive, Ben," Sadusky said. "We're going to bring him home."

"Where do we go from here?" Ben asked.

"We wait," Sadusky said. "I'll have another report next week around this time. I'll give you a call."

-

"Are you okay?" Abigail asked quietly as they walked out of the FBI building.

"I'm fine," Ben said. "A little shocked. I was just starting to finally put it to rest."

"I feel the same," Abigail said, placed a hand over her lips. "I can't… I can't believe he's alive. It's been a year, Ben."

"I know," Ben said, uncharacteristically pulled her into his arms. "But he's alive. He's alive."

Abigail's eyes brimmed with tears as she hugged him back.

"It's… it's the best news I'd had in my life" She pulled away, rummaged through her purse for a tissue. "Are going to tell your parents?"

"I don't know yet. I should. They might both die of heart attacks if Riley suddenly shows up on their doorstep."

"When you're ready, Ben," Abigail said. "It's… a little big. We both need to process it first."

"Yes," Ben said, looked into the sky.

Riley was going to come home.

**Yay! Riley's not dead! Why, did some of you really think I'd actually kill Riley? Okay, my imagination is dark, but actually killing him is a line it'll never cross. That's going too far. **

**Sorry for not getting straight into the good, juicy angst that we all love, but the next chapter explains all. Keep a watchful eye on the horizon.**


	3. Part 3

**Aw, guys! You make me feel so special! Thanks for all your great reviews – and again, thanks to the betas!**

ALMOST A YEAR EARLIER

Riley stirred. It was dark. He was in bed. He didn't remember getting in bed.

He sat up, fell back almost instantly, wincing in pain. The side of his skull was on fire. His hand flew up, felt the tender area above his ear carefully with his fingers.

And remembered.

He sat up again, ignoring the wave of nausea coiling in his gut. He had no idea where he was, but he needed to get out.

Riley crawled out of bed, hand to his head. With a sudden jolt he realized he was covered with blood, and it was most likely his own. Trying his best to put it from his mind, he stumbled towards a dark shape of the door. White flecks dimmed his vision, but he ignored them as well. He wanted out, gone, away.

His hand closed over the doorknob, the metal cool against his skin. But a quick twist indicated it was locked. But it didn't stop him from rattling the door in frustration.

The windows. He tripped over something in his haste, cursed. It was too dark to see anything. He was virtually blind. His eyes weren't adjusting to the darkness.

The windows all had thick iron bars running in a lattice formation.

Riley turned around, his mind racing for an escape. He leaned against the wall, tried to find his bearings. His hand patted along the wall, searching for a switch.

His fingers found a plastic fitting, then the room lit up. Riley was blinded.

When he could focus, he very nearly fainted.

He was in a hotel room. An enormous bed in the middle, a sitting area with a wide-screen TV, and across from him, another door that he'd missed. Probably a bathroom.

But the most surprising was that somehow, all his stuff was there. His seven laptops stacked on the metal lab table from his home office and gracing an entire wall was his entire workstation - his cables, transmitters, all his tools… everything.

The room spun. On the floor by the bed were a few boxes. One of them was half-open and he could see his old alarm peeking from the top.

He'd stepped into the Twilight Zone. This must be magic. How else could this be possible?

His head ached, his vision faded and he slumped against the wall. Outside, he heard footsteps, quiet voices. They paused outside the door and a rattle of keys echoed. A voice in his head screamed at him to hide, but it was too late.

The voices became louder, and a key twisted in the lock. The door swung open. He couldn't see. He couldn't _see_. His head spun.

"You hold him down, I'll administer the sedative." A hard, strong woman's voice.

"I don't think that will be necessary. He looks pretty incapacitated." Softer, amused, female.

"Still, don't let him move."

Riley felt a pair of strong hands grip his shoulders and something stung his arm. He tried to twist away, but the hands gripped tighter. Then the world seemed to mellow, the grip on his shoulders lessened. His head felt as if it was floating.

"Is he going to be okay?" A new voice. Deep, coarse, man.

"He'll be fine." The second woman. "A little concussed and bloody, but head wounds always bleed a lot. Did you have to hit him that hard?"

"I wasn't sure, but I didn't want him waking up on me halfway through and having to knock him out again."

"Quit standing there smugly and come give me a hand. You're going to have to stay with him." The first woman. "Check him a couple times. He needs to be well enough tomorrow…"

The voices trailed off, and Riley drifted away.

-

When Riley woke up again, his head felt even worse.

He didn't open his eyes at first. He heard the rustle of paper close by, kept his breath steady. There was someone in the room with him.

"It's okay, I know you're awake."

Riley cracked open an eye. A woman sat in an armchair close to the bed. The second lady from earlier. She had an open magazine in her lap. She cocked her head, reddish-brown hair falling around her square face.

"How are you feeling?"

Riley sat up quickly, didn't answer.

"Where am I?"

"You're safe now." She smiled. "No one's going to bash your head in anymore. How's it feel?"

"Where am I? What are you going to do?"

"Hey," she said, stood up, letting the magazine drop to the floor. "You're okay now. You can relax."

Riley's breath caught in his throat as she pushed him back down.

"What do you want with me?"

"Right now?" she smiled. As if it was supposed to put him at ease. "We need you to rest. Jim's going to come in later and she wants you to start today."

"Who's Jim? What do you want me to do?"

She smiled.

"Sleep. We'll explain everything later."

Riley didn't sleep. He closed his eyes and wished he'd wake up and realize that this was all just a nightmare. A terrible, feverish bad dream. He'd wake up and be on Ben's couch and he'd be watching a documentary on whales.

"Okay," she said. Riley sat up. "It's nearly seven. You should get up now, have a shower."

Because he was too terrified of what might happen if he didn't, he obeyed. And found that even his clothes from home had found a place in the closet.

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, the auburn-headed woman keeping a close watch on him. He didn't wait long. Soon there was a knock on the door and two people walked in. An older woman with short black hair and a big man with wide shoulders and disturbingly green eyes.

"Hi," the woman said briskly, held out a hand as if they were meeting for an interview and hadn't kidnapped him. "I'm Jim. This is Danny, and Katie. We've been appointed to inform you why you've been brought here."

Riley uncertainly took her hand.

"Danny," Jim said to the big man. "Sit down. Katie."

The three people sat down and stared at Riley for a moment or two.

"Well." Jim smoothed her jeans with her palms, pressed her lips together. "I've never done this before. They should have asked a welcoming leader to do this. Someone like that would have been able to make you feel comfortable."

"I'll start," Katie, the brunette said and leaned forward. "We're part of a group called the Analysts. We need your help to modernize our systems."

Riley's eyes widened.

"You didn't have to drag me away in the middle of the night to do that," he said. "If you'd asked nicely, I would have done it. No problem."

The three people shared a glance.

"Our information is a little… sensitive," Jim said, "We can't risk anyone finding out about our operations."

A tight ball of fear settled in Riley's stomach. They were criminals. They were going to kill him once they were done with him.

"What exactly do you need me to do?"

"We have a list of specifications here," Jim said and handed Riley a sheet of paper. "But basically, we need you to create a security system that won't be detected by the feds, and won't be hacked into. We have very sensitive information that, if out in the open, the entire organization could get shut down."

"Um…" Riley cleared his throat. He didn't want to ask this question. He knew the answer. "What if… what if I… didn't…" He looked up, hoping they were getting his drift.

Another look passed between them. The women looked embarrassed, but Danny kept his jade gaze on Riley, slowly cracked his knuckles.

"There will be consequences," he said slowly, deliberately.

"Okay," Riley said, cleared his throat again.

"You'll be staying here, in this room, until you've proven to us that we can trust you. Only then will you be allowed out." Jim flattened her lips again and looked away. "If you betray us, we will find out and Danny will complete what he started last night."

The fear must have shown on Riley's face, because Katie's suddenly adopted a sympathetic look.

"Um…" Riley said, looked down at the paper in his hand. "This… shouldn't take more than a few days. Can… can I… go home… then?"

"No," Jim said decisively. "You're part of the community now. This is your home." She gestured to the things around the room and the boxes on the floor. "We've brought some of your stuff here, to make you feel more comfortable. You _should_ feel comfortable. Katie will stay with you for the first few days and make sure you don't get into trouble."

Even though complete and utter desolation passed over Riley's face, the statement had hardened him somehow. He was going to break out of this prison.

"Have you been… watching me?" he asked slowly. "Before you decided…"

"Not us," Katie said. "Our other members."

"I'm… going to be missed, you know," Riley said, determination suddenly in his voice. "My friends will know, they'll find out. They'll _find_ me."

"They won't," Jim said. "No one knows you're missing yet. We're staging it so it looks like you've vanished into thin air. Your apartment is being cleaned out as we speak. Your bank accounts too, we've placed all your money in new accounts. Benjamin Gates and Dr. Chase will be devastated, but they'll move on."

Riley stared in horror.

"No," he said softly. "You can't do that to Ben and Abigail. You'll destroy them. Please. You can have all the money. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"We can't allow that," Jim said, her voice hard. She stood up. "Katie will find you something to eat. We'd appreciate it if you could start as soon as you can."

They left Riley alone for a few moments. He couldn't do anything. It felt like he was frozen to the couch. Afterwards, he cursed himself and realized he could have commandeered one of his laptops, sent out an SOS signal or something. But he didn't. He didn't know how they knew he wouldn't do anything. He just sat there and realized his life was falling apart. And it was going to affect everyone he knew.

"Hey," a voice said above him. "You okay?"

Katie smiled down at him. She held a tray in her hands, then placed it in front of him. Coffee and Cheerios. He didn't want to ask her how she knew it was his usual breakfast.

"I'm not really hungry," he said, buried his face in his hands.

"You need to eat something," she said, sitting down across from him.

"You can't do this to me," he said, shaking his head. "You're… you're just… you're taking me away from everything, everyone I love. And you're going to put them through hell."

"It wasn't my decision." Katie spread her hands. "I can't do anything about it. So eat your breakfast, then you can have some painkillers. Just see this as an extended holiday."

"A holiday…" Riley scoffed, and it threatened to turn into tears. "I can't. I can't do this."

"You have no choice."

-

Hours later, Riley dug the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"What are you doing now?"

He knew he shouldn't complain. He'd been the same when he was learning.

"Are you going to do this all the time?" he said, turned to Katie, where she was leaning close, watching the screen over his shoulder. It was driving him nuts.

"Yeah."

"I'm going to take a break."

He pushed up away from the table. It was covered with papers he'd been scribbling on, working out codes and trying to come up with a program that would keep hackers like him out. He was working from the other end. He couldn't count the number of times he'd told Katie that they should have kidnapped someone from Homeland Security.

"Okay." Katie leaned back in her seat.

Riley stretched, gazed out the window. At least he had a little view. Three floors below, a small garden with a big tree in the corner and a marble fountain in the middle posed as if for a picture. It was enclosed, the rest of the house reaching all the way around it, forming a courtyard. As he watched, a small kid screamed and ran laughingly towards the tree.

"Kai!" a girl called, ran after him. "Don't climb up that tree!"

She was too late. The little boy had already scaled up the first few branches and sat grinning down at her.

"Alright, come on down, then," the girl said, folded her arms. "If you're big enough to climb up, you can climb down. Come on."

There was a slight pause, and Riley could hear the boy start to cry. The girl sighed, started up the tree.

"Are you never going to learn?" she chided. "How many times do I need to come rescue you before you realize you're not big enough to climb trees yet?"

"Who're they?" Riley asked as Katie came to stand by his side.

"Children of members who… passed away. They stay here. This is the special community." She glanced at him. "And you're the most special. You have no idea the special treatment you're getting."

"What do you mean?"

"You've got this whole suite to yourself. If it were normal members staying here, there'd be ten people living in this room and even more using the bathroom."

"Oh." Riley blushed despite himself. "Sorry."

"No need to be. You kinda deserve it. You're the only one forced to stay here, the others are all doing it voluntarily."

There was a slight pause. Both knew what the other was thinking.

"How did they die?" Riley asked.

"Alex, she's the girl… her parents died in a bombing in Paris a few years ago. And Kai's mom was killed by her boyfriend. He's in jail now."

There was another silence.

"You'll get used to it here," Katie said. "This is the best community to live in. We have a very good atmosphere. We have to keep it family-based for the kids, they still go to school. We all have dinner together, etcetera. When you've proven yourself, you're going to join us. Just don't go and ruin it."

"What kind of… organization is this?"

A shadow passed unnoticed by Riley over Katie's face, then vanished.

"We believe that the Bible is more than a guide or a way of life. There's a hidden message in the pages. From God's lips himself. A secret mission for all Analysts."

Riley was about to scoff, but swallowed it at the expression on Katie's face.

"I… I don't believe in God." He turned away from the window. Religion was a sensitive topic for him. He shied away from it as best as he could.

"You're going to hell, then," Katie said matter-of-factly.

"Don't believe in that either."

"What do you think happens after you die, then?"

"You… die. Your body rots. End of story."

"That's very sad." Katie turned to face Riley, who'd picked up where he'd left off. "I'll pray for you."

"Don't bother," Riley said, pored over a section of codes. "If there was a God, He wouldn't have let this happen to me. He wouldn't have let me my brother hate me. He wouldn't have given my parents jobs that resulted in me being raised by nannies until I was nine, or forced me to grow up on my own."

"Oh," Katie said. "I'm sorry. But sometimes, God gives us tests. He tests our faith. Do you think it was you that caused Benjamin Gates to punch your boss lights out and give you the best job of your life?"

"Uh," Riley said. "Yeah. Now shush. I need to concentrate."

**This is really digging deep into me. I'm serious. It touches on my own insecurities and stuff I don't want to think about. Don't laugh. It's true. And for those of you have no care in the world – this is the sensitive subject I was warning about…**


	4. Part 4

"Well?" Ben said, sat down at the table. There were FBI agents seated all around. It was strange, sitting down with these people again. They didn't want to arrest him anymore. They needed his help. And they wanted to help him.

"We've got another report," Sadusky informed Ben as Abigail joined them as well. "Our agent's been granted free range of the community in question and has planted cameras with audio and live transmitters in the kitchen, the common room and a few hallways. She hasn't been able to place any in the bedrooms."

An agent seated down the table stopped typing away on his laptop and swung it around so the rest of the table could see.

"We've got live feed," he said. "But this was recorded a few days ago. Richards sent two clips to be looked at."

The screen was split into two smaller screens. Two women, a dark-haired one and a red-head were talking in a hallway.

"I don't know what to do anymore," the auburn-haired woman was saying, her head bowed.

"It's not my problem," the darker, older one said, her tone hard and cold.

"It's everyone's problem. The children are picking up on the atmosphere."

"Sort it out. You're the resident _angel_. Talk to him."

"He doesn't listen to me. He's been like this for months."

"He'll move on."

"Jim-"

"Sort it out."

The older woman walked away, leaving the other standing in the hallway.

The other screen showed the now-familiar outlay of the kitchen. Someone sat at the table, face buried in his hands.

"That's him." An agent pointed at the last screen. "Right there."

"Oh my God," Abigail said, clapped a hand over her mouth. He was alive. He was breathing. She'd known for a week, but to see it… was different.

"He doesn't look happy," the agent said.

"No," Sadusky said. "Possibly it's him the two women are talking about."

"Sir, if we move in now-"

"No," Sadusky said firmly. "We need something incriminating."

"Kidnapping's not incriminating enough?"

"We don't know whether it's kidnapping or not," Sadusky pointed out.

"Shh," Ben said, pointed to the kitchen screen. The red-haired woman walked into the kitchen.

She didn't say anything, just went to the fridge and took out two cans of Coke. Then she sat down next to Riley, slid one over to him. He didn't respond. The woman sighed.

"Riley-"

"It's been a year."

Ben bit his lip. To hear Riley's voice again… it was something he'd given up on. It was tinny through the audio transmitter, but it was unmistakable.

"You can talk to me."

"You betrayed me. I trusted you and you betrayed me. You want me to talk? Fine." Riley straightened up. To the people listening and watching an unknown distance away, his face was tired, withdrawn. "Six months ago, when you tried to win me over with your little God-heals-all spiel, I actually believed you. I believed you. I trusted you. I asked for your help. You agreed." Riley paused. "You agreed. To be specific, your words were, 'if that's what you need, I'll help you'. Then I find out on TV that my body's been found." His voice rose. It was a tone Ben had never heard before. "Too decomposed for positive ID. Dental records useless. You killed someone, so that if they actually expect foul play and decide to look for me, they'll think they'll never find me. They've stopped looking."

Riley stopped, a pained expression on his face. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped an octave.

"They've stopped looking for me. Any hope Ben or Abigail might have had is lost. Gone." He paused again, fixed the woman with an accusing glare. "And you expect me to be okay with that."

"Riley," the woman said, reached for his hand. He pulled away. "I understand. I know how difficult it is, cutting all ties like that. But you had no choice. You had to."

Riley shook his head, pushed back up from the table. There was a sharp twist at Abigail's heart when she saw how thin he was, how small he looked. Without another word, he walked out of the kitchen.

The agents around the table all started talking at once.

"One at a time," Sadusky said loudly, as if talking to a bunch of children.

"It's obvious that he did this involuntarily," a female agent said.

"Not necessarily," another dark-haired agent challenged. "The woman said, I quote, 'you had no choice'. At some point, he made a decision."

"Why would he want to escape?" a young, handsome agent disputed. "He wanted out. He wanted someone to find him."

"We don't know he wanted to escape," the dark-haired agent retorted, shook his head. "He said he wanted help. It could mean anything."

"We've got nothing concrete from that conversation to indicate that he did this voluntarily," Sadusky said. "Everything points to abduction. But still, we've got nothing solid enough to guarantee a search warrant."

"Sir, I disagree," the female agent said, raised a sheet where she'd been scribbling notes. "This quote, right here, 'You killed someone, so that if they actually expect foul play and decide to look for me, they'll think they'll never find me'… that's not solid enough?

Sadusky shook his head.

"Circumstantial. Now, if he said, 'you took me against my will', that would have been different. But he didn't." Sadusky glanced over to the civilian couple, who'd been silent throughout the conversations. "We have someone permanently monitoring the live footage. If we find anything-"

"I want to see it," Ben said. The agents exchanged a glance. Many of them had disputed Sadusky's decision to bring them into the investigation at all, but he'd ruled them as expert consultants on the grounds that they knew Riley Poole better than anyone, and that had sealed it.

"Are you sure?" Sadusky asked. "Often, there's not much to see. Just normal, everyday situations. This was an exception."

"I want to see," Ben said again. "I need to know what's going on in that house."

"Me too," Abigail said.

"Alright," Sadusky said slowly, nodded. "Agent Bishop will show you. Bishop?"

"Yes, sir," the female agent said, gathered her notes and stood up. Ben and Abigail followed her.

"I just want to say," Bishop said as they left the conference room, "that we're doing everything we can to get Mr. Poole back home. It must be difficult for you, to believe that he was dead for a year-"

"Six months," Ben corrected automatically.

"I apologize," Bishop said, stopped at a door, her hand on the handle. "But I want to warn you. After an experience like this, people change. I didn't know Mr. Poole, but from what I've heard, he was a bright, witty young man. I've spent a lot of time watching this live footage myself, and I can tell you that he's changed."

She gave them a sad look, opened the door.

* * *

Riley Poole sighed, turned the page of a magazine. He was restless. Not really concentrating.

The mornings were the worst. He was most alone then. Not that he wasn't lonely during the rest of the day, but the two kids living with him livened things up.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, not knowing that a small camera was hidden in it. Soon Kai would be back from school and the silence would be broken. If he hadn't felt so morose, he'd have looked forward to it.

He dropped the magazine to the floor, walked over to one of the windows of the common room. This was the meeting area. The playroom. The TV room. The living room. Below, he could see the garden from the opposite side of the house. Straight across was his room, still the biggest bedroom in the house. Alex had her own room. So did Kai. To preserve the community, the rest of the female occupants shared a room and the men had a room of their own.

He'd surprised everyone and himself by finishing the system in less than three days. He worked well under pressure, and though he'd been given all the time he needed, he'd felt the atmosphere of urgency that Katie brought along with her each morning during the first few days. She'd barely left him alone for a moment. She waited until she was sure he was asleep before she left his room. And she woke him up each morning by ripping open the curtains and blinding him.

And since he'd proven himself by not trying to break out (although it was mostly fear that stopped him), it had been less than a week before he was allowed out. He'd seen many people pass through the garden below, and knew that there were a lot more people staying at this huge place.

He hadn't met everyone. There were still people who lived on the bottom floor who weren't allowed upstairs. But the people who'd been in the common room when he'd finally been allowed out, had stared at him as if he was some kind of celebrity. If he hadn't been so terrified, he might have enjoyed the attention.

Looking back, the first few weeks were easy. He was waited on hand and foot and barely had to lift a finger. Katie seemed omnipresent. She was always around. She even snuck him out some mornings to go for a long walk somewhere when she saw how desperately he gazed out the window.

He'd asked her about his things. His car. She said they still had it, but they had had it repainted and a fake registration put in place. Maybe, in a few years' time, he'd be allowed to see it again. His furniture had been sold, all the proceedings having gone into his new overseas account. His life had been condensed to a sum of money. It was immense, but untouchable. He was still a prisoner.

He'd met the kids a few weeks later. They'd known about him, asked about him. And they'd been made to promise that they would never, ever tell anyone about him. Alex was a sweet girl, always smiling. Pretty. And Kai was just… Kai. A spurt of energy in a five-year-old's body.

He liked them. They cheered him up a little. Only a little. No matter what Katie said, he'd never be able to say goodbye to his old life and accept this… hostage situation.

He didn't have much to do. There was a library of books somewhere downstairs, but he hadn't bothered. So he spent most of his time busying himself with computers, Katie always hovering, making sure he didn't try something stupid. But even if he wanted to, he couldn't. He'd detected the worm someone had placed in his system. If he sent anything out of the network, it would flare up and notify whoever had planted it. He couldn't investigate, it would show up on the computer's log. So he pretended not to know about it.

He'd found out more about them while he was working on their system, almost a year ago. They had locked files that were easy to bypass. He'd been curious. But he wished he hadn't. What he'd found scared him.

Careful, clear instructions. Blueprints of buildings. Reports. All relating to terrorism. He'd been abducted into a terrorist organization.

He wondered whether Katie knew. How many people were aware of this? How many people were innocent, living some sort of fake life believing in something that didn't exist?

He sighed, paced restlessly in front of the window. Every now and then, someone new would be introduced to him. The last person he'd recently met made a point of seeking him out whenever she visited. He didn't think much of it. Many people regarded him as some kind of celebrity. But for the past year, he'd felt as if someone had cut off one of his limbs. He was off balance. He was confused. And he was inconsolable.

He hated it here. Except for the kids, there was nothing that could make him feel better. He spent every waking moment thinking of some way to escape. He'd made the biggest mistake of telling Katie that he wasn't going to stay. They'd been walking around, and like an idiot, he'd decided to trust her. And she agreed. He should have known then that she was lying. Not even two days later, Alex had quietly slipped into his room and turned the TV on without a word. And came over to give him a hug as bulletins relayed the news of his death. He wondered how much she knew.

A door opened behind him and Riley turned as a small, dark-skinned boy whirled into the room like a little tornado.

"Riley! Guess what happened today?"

"What?" Riley sat down on the couch.

"Guess!"

"I don't know. You saw a dinosaur."

"No! Dinosaurs are extinct."

"A monkey stole your lunch."

"No! I got voted class president!"

"Wow," Riley smiled, sat down on one of the couches. Kai clambered onto him. "That's impressive. So now, what, do you get to tell people what to do?"

"When the teacher's not around, I take charge. I help her clean up the classroom after school. And I got a badge." He held out the little shiny piece of metal. Riley held out a hand, but Kai pulled it back. "Look with your eyes, not with your fingers!"

"You're getting cheeky," Riley teased, ruffled his hair. Kai grinned, clutched his badge proudly.

"Jim said I could watch some TV because I was good today."

"Alright," Riley said, started the never-ending search for the remote.

The little camera on the clock recorded everything in minute detail.

"The kid makes him look happier," Abigail said softly. She'd been close to tears earlier, when Riley had paced morosely, and restlessly flipped through a magazine.

"At least he's got something to hold on to," Ben agreed. The small monitor room was filled with six screens, four recording empty hallways and stairwells, another focused on the kitchen, and the last trained on a large hall, filled with couches and tables, and a TV. Where Riley was sitting right now, watching TV with a little boy.

"He's a prisoner," Abigail said, shaking her head.

"He's got free range of the top floor, and is downstairs at certain times." The agent in charge pointed to the kitchen. "From what I can figure out by the stairs and hallways, the kitchen is on the second floor, not ground level. The big room is on the top floor. He doesn't go down to the ground floor unless someone's with him." The blond man sat back, thumb and forefinger on his chin. "I don't think he's allowed."

"What more do you need?" Ben asked. "Isn't it clear that he's held against his own will?"

The agent shook his head.

"Sadusky wants us to hold out until we've got proof of terrorism. Our agent hasn't been able to get that proof. Yet. But it should be soon. She's gaining a reputation with someone named Jim, who seems to be the leader of the community. She'll be able to gain full access to the entire organization."

Ben sat back, pondered.

"It better be soon," he said as the figure tried to get a laughing kid off his lap. "We're going to get him out of there, with your help or without."

**Aw, even if I say so myself. I hope to hell that I haven't made Ben too soppy, but I needed to show how he's feeling and in the films it's really difficult to gauge just how emotional Ben can get.**


	5. Part 5

**Sorry about the delay, people. Thanks for all your great reviews! **

Federal Agent Liam Davis watched the screens in front of him. He'd just arrived on his shift again, and had a lot of time to think about the situation.

He sighed, ran his hair through his sun-bleached blond hair. When he wasn't solving crime, he was working off the stress of his job with wakeboarding. The adrenaline that fuelled him as he zipped across the wake into a three-sixty spin helped him to drain the endless frustration he felt when his hands were tied with a case.

Like this one. He could almost feel the restlessness of the man pacing outside the common room. Poor guy. The only thing he did wrong was have a talent for something that could be used nefariously (ooh what a word). And he'd been pulled into this whole mess. Davis couldn't even start to imagine what Riley Poole must be feeling.

He sighed, reaching for a bag of Doritos and releasing his pent-up frustration on the corn chips. He could do nothing but watch this guy going through hell again and again.

His paused for a second, halfway through a chomp, as a familiar face started up a flight of stairs. Saliva started to gather in his mouth as he watched the secret agent ascend the stairs. In the passage above, Poole stopped pacing and listened to the footsteps.

Davis lunged for the telephone, and between flying chunks of Doritos, stammered out a request for Captain Sadusky's office.

"Yes."

"Agent Davis here, sir. I think we might have a potentially interesting conversation coming up. If you'd like to-"

"I'll be right there."

Sadusky slammed the receiver down, sped out of his office, past the surprised agents in the hall, and burst into the monitor room. Agent Davis was still trying to swallow an impossibly big mouthful of corn chips.

"What have we got?"

Davis winced as the chips didn't go down well and wiped the crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Poole and Agent Richards."

Sadusky absently helped himself to Davis' Doritos, ignoring the disapproving glance he got from his subordinate.

"Riley. Hi." Agent Richards appeared onto the screen.

"It's Lucy, right?"

"Yeah. How are you?"

"Okay."

"Hey," she said, as if she just remembered something. "I wanted to ask you something. Mind if we…" She gestured to the door.

"Uh…" Poole stepped aside, opened the door to the common room. "Sure."

Sadusky and Davis' eyes sprang to the screen of the common room. The two kids were inside, playing cards.

"Beat you again," the girl smirked.

"Could you give us a little privacy?" Richards asked. It wasn't a question. Alex and Kai gathered the cards and left the room without another word.

"You guys can play in my room, if you want," Poole suggested as they passed him.

"Race you there!" the boy called and vanished, only to appear in the screen of the hallway. The girl sighed loudly, followed.

"Sit down," she said.

"Whoa," Davis said. "She's not going to…"

Sadusky shook his head, his eyes fixed on the screen.

"She's not authorized. If she does…"

"I've got something to confess to," the woman on the screen said, turned and started to root through her bag.

"Oh no," Sadusky said, watching in horror. "She's going to."

"I'm a great fan," she said, pulling out a well-worn, slightly sad-looking book. The golden title was unmistakable.

"Thank God," Sadusky sighed, letting out a long whoosh of breath. If Agent Richards had outed herself, she would have been taken off the case immediately.

"Would you mind signing it?"

"Oh," Poole said, took the book. For a few moments, he didn't do anything but stare at it. "Have you got a pen?"

"Yeah," she smiled, handed it to him. He opened the book, poised with the pen for a long time.

"I'm sorry," he said after a while. "I have no idea what to say."

"She's doing this on purpose," Davis muttered past a corn chip. "She's up to something."

"You can just sign it, date it." Richards smiled again, looked right up at the camera. Poole frowned, followed her gaze.

"Shit," Sadusky said. "She's going to do it."

"Mr. Poole," Richards said. "My name is Agent Richards. I'm with the FBI. We're going to get you out of here."

Riley Poole stared incomprehensively.

"If this is a trick-"

"It's not a trick." She pulled out her badge, showed it to him. "You need to tell me how we can break into your system."

"What?" Sadusky demanded. "What is she talking about? What system?"

"I have no idea, sir." Davis shook his head disbelievingly. It was like watching a horror movie. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

"You can't," Poole said, his eyes wide, "It's been designed to-"

"Mr. Poole, we don't have time. You're a programmer. There must be some sort of loophole."

"You can't. The only loophole…"

Sadusky gripped at his hair as another figure started up the stairs.

"Oh no…" he said, "Oh, no, no, no."

"Yes?" Richards was pressing him for information. Poole sighed.

"The only loophole is for security measurements. But… I think. I think you'll be able to bypass."

Poole shook his head, started to scribble something down in his book, still talking.

"This will only work from my computer. At Ben's place. If he hasn't thrown it away. It's…" he paused, realized he was talking to a federal agent. "It's untraceable."

"What is going on in there?" Sadusky shouted. "Is she bugged? She is, I ordered it. Get her. Now. Right here. Get me Richards on the line."

Davis abandoned his Doritos and leapt at the telephone again.

The figure continued up the stairs.

"I hope this works," Poole continued. "You'll need these codes to get into the sealed files."

"What's taking you so long?" Sadusky yelled at Davis.

"It's connecting," Davis said, handed the receiver to Sadusky.

On the screen, Poole snapped the book shut as the door opened.

"Lucy," the red-haired woman said. "What are you doing here?"

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Sadusky kept his voice low, but anger seethed below the surface.

"Nothing, I just wanted a chat," Agent Lucy Richards smiled. The two people in the room with her were oblivious to her second conversation.

"You better have an explanation for this." Sadusky's voice blared in her ear.

"Have you heard the latest news?" Lucy directed at Katie.

"What news?" Katie frowed.

"You've sent another report? Your next one's not due for another three days." Sadusky leaned forward, placed his palm against the desktop and scrutinized his agent's face.

"You haven't." A frown. "Never mind then. Someone else will inform you."

Sadusky stared at the screen, the receiver still to his ear. Then he turned to the agent next to him and unleashed a torrent of angry words and requests for mail.

"I was just asking Riley for an autograph," Lucy the Analyst member said, smiled. "He was kind enough to give it to me."

"Oh," Katie said. "That's sweet. Can I see?"

"It's just a signature," Poole said. "I couldn't think of anything nice to say." He handed the book back to the agent.

"You know," Katie said to Lucy. "I've known you for an entire three years and you've never mentioned that you're a fan of Riley's."

"Closet," Lucy said, giving a wry smile and putting the book back into her bag. "I don't like other people to know. It took me so long just to scrape up the courage to come up here and ask for an autograph."

"You must be proud," Katie said. "I mean, you've got the last signed copy of Riley Poole's book. You won't mind showing it to me."

"This could get ugly," Davis murmured. "Should we have backup people standing by?"

"Good idea." Sadusky nodded. "Have a team there ASAP, but stay hidden. I don't want anyone visible."

Davis sprang back onto the phone, relayed the information as Sadusky watched the exchange on the screen.

"Should I call Mr. Gates and Dr. Chase, get them to stand by?" Davis asked, holding the receiver away from his mouth for a second. Sadusky considered.

"Yes. If anything goes wrong, they need to be the first to know."

Inside the common room, tension was rife.

Riley tried his best to keep cool, but a million thoughts milled about in his head. The FBI knew he was alive. Did Ben and Abigail know? How long have they known? How did the undercover agent find out about the system?

"It's just a signature," Lucy said, stood up to go.

"Please," Katie said, her tone anything but pleading. "I want to see."

"I'm going into the field," Sadusky announced.

"Sir?" Davis questioned.

"I said, I'm going into the field." Sadusky stood up, crossed to the door. "Keep your eyes peeled. Anything off, call me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Sadusky pulled on a bulletproof vest an agent handed to him.

"Captain, are you sure you want to do this?"

"If anyone else questions my decision again, they can consider themselves on probation."

"Lucy." Katie was losing her cool. "Give me the book."

"Katie, it's nothing," Riley started. "I just signed it."

"Riley, shush." Lucy straightened up, using her authority over Katie. "You're making a fuss over nothing. I have things to do."

She started towards the door. In a fit of temper, Katie snatched at her bag. Lucy, angered, ripped her bag from Katie's grip. But Katie had gotten her hands on the book. Flipping it open to the front, she stared.

_Riley Poole_, it said in Riley's messy hand.

She looked up, her eyes meeting Lucy's as she realized what a fool she looked.

"Lucy, I'm so sorry."

Lucy stepped forward, held a hand out for the book.

"It's alright. You're forgiven."

Katie held out the book. As if in slow motion, Lucy took it, but the dust cover slipped off and the book tumbled to the floor.

Riley could do nothing but stand by and watch as the book fell open at the last page. In his untidy, rushed handwriting, a list of instructions and scribbled codes gazed solemnly back at them.

As the two women drew their eyes back up from the page, both reached for their waists.

In the monitoring office, Davis was back on the telephone, hurling information at Sadusky.

"We have weapons out, sir! The woman and Richards both have firearms trained on each other!"

"Poole?" Sadusky nearly shouted as the FBI van sped towards the community. Thank God it wasn't far away. A team was already assembled, ready to move in. They were just waiting for his orders.

"He looks terrified, sir, but unhurt."

"Stay on the line, keep me informed," Sadusky instructed, beckoned to the driver for his cell phone, dialed. "Move in, don't raise alarm. The woman has a weapon."

"Katie," Agent Richards said. "Put the gun down."

"No," Katie said, her eyes hard. "This is not what God wants. You've betrayed us."

"Katie." Richards' eyes bored into Katie's. "Put the gun down."

"No." Katie whipped the automatic weapon towards Riley. Riley jumped, held his hands up. "You're both traitors."

"Katie, if you shoot Riley, you will go to jail for a very long time."

"I won't," she said. "God will protect me. I can do anything in his name."

"That's not true, Katie." Richards never removed her eyes from Katie's. "You'll face the consequences."

"Shut up," Katie shouted, the gun in her hands quivering. Riley drew a shaky breath. "Traitor. You'll burn in hell for betraying God."

"Katie," Riley whispered. "Don't do this."

She shook her head incredulously.

"You were ratting us out," she accused. "You knew about our information. You told her. You told her!"

She stepped forward towards Riley, shaking with anger. He stumbled back, breath shallow.

"You were willing to jeopardize everything-"

"Katie, he didn't tell me," Lucy said evenly. "You did."

"I didn't," Katie said, horrified. "I didn't!"

"You did," Lucy said quietly. "Yesterday. At church."

"No," Katie said, remembering.

"You said that Riley was devastated, that everyone should pray for him."

Riley looked between the two women.

"No," Katie said, her eyes glimmering with tears. "No!"

"You said that his security system was excellent, but he was wasting away."

"No!" Katie screamed, turned the gun to Lucy.

**AAAARGH! The suspense! I love cliffhangers, don't you?**


	6. Part 6

**Sorry for the delay - but this is the last chapter! Da dum. Thanks for all your support!**

"Man down!" Davis shouted into the telephone. "I repeat, man down! Richards is shot!"

He could see Poole standing spattered with blood next to the limp form of his fellow agent. The other screens were filled with FBI agents, guns drawn.

"Katie," he heard Poole breathe. "Don't do this."

Davis could do nothing but watch this horror film.

"Riley," Richards said, blood bubbling at her mouth. Poole knelt next to her, uncertainly looking at the two bullet wounds in her middle.

"Lucy, hold on." He spread his hands, shakily, and pressed them to the wounds. _Pressure_, he thought, _keep up the pressure_.

"They… know," she said, her eyes glossing over as they tried to focus on the face in front of her, her breath coming short and pained. "They know. They can see you."

"Lucy," Poole said. "Lucy, don't."

"Shut up!" the woman shouted again, trained her gun on him. Poole ignored her. Richards drew a ragged breath, closed her eyes.

"I don't want to shoot you, Riley!" the woman said. "Get up!"

"Lucy." Poole's voice was quiet, his hands bloody.

-

"Shots fired," Sadusky said into the phone. "Move in. Cover Poole."

He got out of the van, loaded his weapon, and strode towards the house.

-

"Abigail," Ben said, reached for her hand. She returned the gesture, her eyes wet.

"What did Sadusky say?"

"He didn't. It was the monitoring agent, Davis. He said to be prepared for anything and wait for another call."

Abigail turned her face into Ben's jacket and cried openly.

Tears pricked at the corners of Ben's eyes.

Burying Riley for the third time would be too much.

-

Riley was terrified and in shock. The woman who he believed had been just another Analyst trying to convert him had turned out to be his salvation. And she was dying. Her blood was on his clothes.

"Lucy. Lucy. Can you hear me?"

They know. They can see you. That's what she said. What the hell does it mean?

"Get up, Riley! She's too far gone. She deserves it." Katie's voice. Kind, concerned Katie. Hard. Cold. This wasn't real. It was a nightmare.

"Lucy," Riley said. Then there was chaos.

A third gunshot rang through the air. Something hit him in the chest, pushed him backwards. He was on his back, someone looking down into his face.

"Mr. Poole. Are you hurt?"

"No," Riley said, and the agent pulled him to his feet. He was unhurt, but still, the agent gave him thorough once-over.

The room was starting to come into view. He could see paramedics working on Lucy, a pair of agents restraining a hysterical Katie.

He was dizzy. The world spun, and someone pushed him onto a couch. He heard the agent's voice again, asking for a paramedic.

"Mr. Poole. Can you look at me?"

Riley lifted his head, looked into a pair of hazel eyes.

"Can you tell me how many fingers I'm holding up?"

"Four." His voice seemed disconnected, not part of him.

"I think you'll be fine. But I want you to come around to the hospital. We should get you checked out properly. It's not every day someone comes back to life after half a year."

The paramedic smiled at him. Riley managed something between a sob and a laugh.

"Mr. Poole."

A familiar voice. Riley looked up. Sadusky.

"Man," Riley said. "I never thought I'd be happy to see you."

Sadusky chuckled, sat down on the couch next to Riley.

"Glad to see you've still got your humor. You're a famous man, Mr. Poole. You've got your own paparazzi waiting outside."

"This is… not how I wanted to get famous."

"You can't always get what you want," Sadusky said. "Now, I suggest you go with this nice man, and get a checkup. There are some people who are very anxious to see you."

-

When Riley got the all-clear from the hospital staff, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know whether he should just walk out of the hospital. He had nowhere to go. And he didn't want to be photographed like this. He still had Lucy's blood on his hands, his clothes.

So he sat down in one of the smaller waiting rooms and lowered his head into his hands. Slowly, he started to shake. It was over. Somehow, his brain didn't accept it yet. What he'd been wishing for a year had become true. He was free.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head and stood up.

He froze.

There, in the door, stood the one person he'd missed most.

Ben didn't know what to do. He was usually so decisive, but now, he had no idea what to do.

For a long while, the two friends just stared at each other. Then Riley cleared his throat. He'd fantasized over this moment for a year. But he couldn't find words to say.

"Riley." Ben's voice broke.

"Ben." Riley cracked a smile. "I've… missed you."

"Missed me." Ben let out a chuckle that turned into a sob. "You've missed me."

He crossed the space between then, and in an uncharacteristic display of emotion, he wrapped his arms around Riley. Riley stiffened for a moment. The last hug he'd received was when Alex came to break the news of his death to him. Then he relaxed, returned the hug, and tears came.

Riley cried for the first time in a year. Hot tears stung his eyes and Ben could feel the wetness against his jacket's shoulder. Tears threatened to break in his own eyes, but instead, he gripped Riley tighter.

Abigail rounded the corner, looking for Ben, saw the two through the glass window and clasped a hand over her mouth. She didn't know how long she stood there behind them, silently crying before Ben broke the hug, let go of Riley.

Riley's breath caught as he saw Abigail. She just stood there crying.

"Abby," Riley said quietly. "Don't cry. I'm okay."

She shook her head, unable to speak, just pulled him into a hug. Ben clapped Riley's shoulder a couple of times, then broke the two apart and pulled both of them into a hug.

When Abigail had run out of tears, they reluctantly let go of each other.

"You thought I was dead." Riley swept at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"We buried you twice," Abigail said, her eyes red and her voice raw. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

They sat down, Abigail refusing to let go of Riley, as if he would disappear if she did. She kept her hand on his knee.

"Neither did I," Riley said.

"What happened?" Ben asked tentatively. Riley gave him a long look, gave a weary chuckle.

"You want the entire story, or the abridged version?"

Ben smiled. He'd forgotten Riley's humor.

"I got hit in the head, forced to write a security program for a terrorist organization masquerading as a cult, then I accidentally trusted the completely wrong person, got put in my place by being told I was dead, spent six months doing absolutely nothing with my life except think that I will never see anyone I love again, then the woman who was my only deliverance got shot in front of me and I thought I was dead for sure, then I got rescued by Sadusky and his FBI pals." Riley grinned, and for a moment, they saw a glimmer of the old Riley. Then the smile vanished and Riley averted his eyes.

"Riley?" Ben said, concerned.

"How…" Riley started, paused. "How long did you think I decided to vanish?"

"About five minutes," Ben said. "Then I realized you'd never do that."

Riley met Ben's eyes.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Riley dropped his head, shook it.

"I was so scared, that you'd stop looking for me when 'my' body was found."

Ben shook his head.

"I never stopped looking for you, even when they found that body. I always knew."

Riley shook his head again, the recent horror of the past still lingering.

"I was so scared…"

Abigail leaned forward, kissed the top of his head.

"You're okay. You don't need to be scared anymore. You're safe. You're with us."

-

I'm coming round

To open the blinds

You can't hide here any longer

My God you need

To rinse those puffy eyes

You can't lie still any longer

I guess they'll ask you where you've been

And you'll have to tell them

Again and again

And you probably don't wanna hear tomorrow's another day

But I promise you you'll see the sun again

And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness

And I promise you you'll see the sun again

-

Riley woke up – but not blinded by Katie ripping the blinds open. It was still strange to wake up to no Katie. He sat up carefully, half-expecting her to jump out from behind the door.

But he wasn't in the big bedroom anymore. He was in Ben and Abigail's cozy guest bedroom. Since he had no place to go and didn't want to stay at a hotel that would only remind him of the way he was treated, they had insisted he stayed with them. He didn't protest. Besides. It had only been a week since…

The FBI didn't put Riley through much more grief. They only wanted the codes to disable the security and they had all the evidence they needed. The entire organization was shut down, Jim and Danny, and other members involved in and informed of Riley's situation, arrested and charged with terrorism, kidnapping and coercing Riley into working with them. Riley didn't even have to testify. All pled guilty. Katie was charged with murder, classed as a religious fanatic and placed in psychiatric care.

The worst was the media frenzy. Riley couldn't leave the house without being accosted by a reporter or a news van, so he basically became a prisoner all over again. Ben had almost forbidden him to leave the house for a week. Not that he listened.

He cried when the FBI discovered his Ferrari at another Analyst community, sprayed yellow and a fake registration covering his plates. The next day, he saw his sniffling picture in the news and a big caption saying "little millionaire reunited with his car". He'd been pretty mad. It was what they'd done to it that had him crying. There were liquid stains all over the seats, crumbs encrusted everywhere. He'd had it sent in to get it fixed, and when he'd gotten it back, it was good as new. He cried again.

He'd dreaded the media since the day that Special Agent Lucy Richards died. He knew they'd link him to her death, and he didn't want to talk about it. But today, instead of scowling at the media gathered at the bottom of the drive from Ben's top floor window, he was going to go out and meet them. He was going to take his Ferrari, pop on his new sunglasses and drive right past them.

Who cares if they take pictures?

"Where are you going?" Abigail asked suspiciously as she saw Riley come downstairs, keys jangling in his hand.

"Out," he answered vaguely. Her face froze.

"Are you sure? You know that the media is waiting at the end of the drive, right?"

"I'm tired of being afraid," Riley said. "I'm not going to let this stupid year get the better of me."

Abigail stared as he hopped over the driver's side of the car, thought of what Agent Bishop had said the day they first saw Riley alive. About how people who go through experiences like that are often changed for the worse and are never the same again.

She watched Riley start his car, a satisfied smirk on his face. Agent Bishop was right, Riley had changed. The first few days he'd been morose, and hadn't done much but sleep. But then, yesterday, there'd been a sudden change in him. He'd been sitting in Ben's office, his feet up on the desk, staring out the window. Abigail had been watching him, a half-concerned look on her face. Then he turned his face to her.

"Do you think there's a reason this happened to me?"

She'd been taken off guard by the sudden question.

"I don't know. Do you think so?"

"Maybe. That girl, the crazy one, sometimes she made sense. She used to talk about God a lot. Made me think sometimes." He paused, gazed out the window. "I once told her about my parents. She said God tests us all the time to see how strong we are."

Abigail had shaken her head in amazement. She hadn't ever known Riley to be religious or anything. Riley laughed at her expression. His first real laugh.

"I'm not going all religious, don't worry. I'm just saying. Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way. I keep thinking about the bad stuff. I keep thinking how much better off I'd be if this hadn't happened. But now…"

He'd stopped talking, but she could see the gears working in his head.

Bishop had been right. Riley had changed. But in a better way.

-

Riley grinned as he neared the end of the drive. He'd been steeling himself all week for this, but now, he relaxed. This what he wanted. This was what he'd always wanted.

He shifted the Ferrari into a lower gear as he neared the end of the drive. He hadn't driven this thing for a year, but it came naturally now. It had taken him forever to learn the strange Formula One shift gears, with the paddles on the steering wheel. And still, he sometimes screwed up.

He wasn't going to now. He was confident. He slowed, watched as the media parted to stare for a few moments. He could guess that he looked pretty cool.

Then a camera snapped and the hounds were released.

"Mr. Poole! Can we have a word?"

"No comment."

"How does it feel to be so popular?"

"Pretty cool."

"How did your horrific experience change your life?"

Riley didn't answer. He grinned, let the Ferrari do the work. And slipped through the throng of media, vanishing down the road.

**And it's all over. Riley gets what he wants, sort of, and everyone's happy. I really wanted this story to have a happy ending, and I really do think Riley's tougher than he looks. I didn't want this fic to end in that and-he-was-never-the-same-again way some fics do. I wanted things to go back to normal. Like at the end of the films. And, heh, if anyone noticed, this fic started with THE car, and ended with it, like BoS did. I didn't mean for it to, but when I read it again, I was like 'cool'. **

**Oh yeah – I don't usually do songfic, and I don't usually listen to music while I'm writing, but this song just seemed apt. Believe it or not, I was listening to it as I was writing the last few paragraphs. It was one of those songs you have on your ipod that you've heard but haven't actually **_**listened**_** to. It's called See the Sun by Dido. I didn't have the lyrics so I just wrote what made sense. So don't flame me for that. And it also gave me a great ironic title. And… I don't own it. **

**So. If anyone's interested, I might write a cute little follow-up one-shot just to see how Riley's handling fame. Or, since I'm working on a new story, maybe I should let this one flow into that one… it's also a multichap. Any ideas are really welcome, give me a PM. And I don't mind some constructive criticism. **

**Anyway. Over and out**.


End file.
